


Kempt

by groolover



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, mistreatment of a red hoodie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groolover/pseuds/groolover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, Ron and Hermione return to Hogwarts after the war to complete their education. They just want a normal life, but it doesn't look as if they're going to get one – at least, not without help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kempt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sophia_Clark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Clark/gifts).



> 'Kempt' is not a word often used in everyday conversation, but psychiatrists frequently use it in mental state examinations. It means, as you might guess, 'neat' or 'tidy'. More specifically, it is a positive sign when noted by a psychiatrist: many patients present as unkempt when admitted to a psychiatric ward, but are described as 'kempt' when they are discharged, not necessarily entirely cured but definitely in better mental health.
> 
> (The story has nothing whatsoever to do with psychiatry – I just like the word!)
> 
> Written as a gift for Sophia_Clark in the 2012 H/D Holidays fest.
> 
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Ron! DUCK!" yelled Hermione. Harry had already dropped to the floor when he saw her raise her wand, and Ron, who was still struggling to hold the door closed, slid downwards hurriedly. "Colloportus silencio non perspicuus!"

The door immediately stopped rattling, and the carriage windows became opaque. Blessed silence replaced the shouting that had been going on beyond the door, and Hermione grinned. 

"Thank you, Hermione," said Harry in relief, returning to his window seat opposite Ginny. "I knew you'd be able to come up with a better spell than plain old Colloportus."

"How long will it last?" asked Ron, who had relaxed but was still slumped on the floor with his back to the door. 

"I'm not sure," admitted Hermione. "But, even if it lasts all the way to Hogwarts, we still have to actually leave the carriage, remember. There might be even more of them by then."

Harry grimaced. "This is a nightmare," he said. "You know what? I think I'm going to just Apparate there. I only came on the train in the first place because this was our last time and I wanted to feel normal. But this isn't what I had in mind."

"Fine by me," said Ron, getting to his feet. "Hermione? Any objection?"

"You're going _now?_ " Ginny burst in, before Hermione could reply. "You're going to just _leave_ me? You know I can't Apparate."

"Well, we could Side-Along you if you like, I suppose," said Hermione. "Although..." She paused as she noticed the look on Harry's face.

"I don't think they'll bother you if we're not here," said Harry tersely. "And it's not as if you have no _other_ friends on the train." He stood and reached to get his bag down from the luggage rack.

"Oh, silly me, I forgot I'm not a superstar _war hero_ ," sneered Ginny. "You are so _arrogant_. You've hidden from people all summer – they just want to _see_ you. Why can't you just accept that? They don't mean any harm." 

"I'm sure they don't, but that doesn't mean I have to _like_ it," said Harry. "I just want to be left alone so I can have one last nice normal year at Hogwarts. And I'm sorry if you think I'm arrogant, but I'm just stating a fact. That time in Diagon Alley, you said the crowd wandered off after I left, didn't you?"

"Oh, whatever," said Ginny, crossly. "Do what you like, I don't care any more." She turned to gaze out of the window.

Harry took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten before speaking. "Ron? Hermione? Ready?"

They nodded and, moments later, the three of them were outside the gates of Hogwarts.

"I never thought of that," said Ron. "How do we get in?"

"Patronus to McGonagall might work, I suppose," said Harry. He conjured his ethereal stag and sent it off with a message. 

"I'm sorry about Ginny," said Ron, as they waited. "I thought she'd have got over it by now."

"I think she _had_ got over it, but she's probably a bit embarrassed at the moment," said Hermione. 

"Embarrassed? Why?" asked Ron.

"Well, people will be expecting her and Harry to be together, won't they?" said Hermione. "No one knows he's finished with her." 

"I didn't _finish with her_ ," said Harry. "Well, I mean, I _did_ , but that was _last_ summer. She just assumed things would be back to normal after the war. I haven't done anything to encourage her, I promise you."

"Well, _I'm_ still a bit confused about what happened, actually," said Hermione. "So I'm not surprised if she is too. I definitely thought the two of you would be together at this point. When did you change your mind?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but was surprised when Ron beat him to it. "Harry's a different person to the one he was a year ago," he said. "We all know that Harry couldn't stop thinking about Ginny when we were away searching for Horcruxes. I'm still a bit freaked out about the amount of time he spent staring at her dot on the map. But I don't think Ginny's ever really understood the pressure he was under, or what he's been through, so she doesn't get why Harry wants to keep himself to himself these days." 

"I think she's changed too, actually," said Harry thoughtfully. "And I'm not sure why. Although, I suppose, just like she doesn't know what we went through last year, we don't really know what _her_ life was like. But... well, you remember when I first met her, and she was totally starstruck? It feels like some of that's come back, which is a bit ridiculous. I used to love the fact that she treated me as Harry the person, rather than Harry the Chosen One. And I _did_ plan to get back together with her this summer. But... I don't know. Everything just felt different when I got back to the Burrow. _She_ felt different. All she ever seemed to want was for us to go out in public, and you know what happened the one time we did."

"I must admit, I did think it was a bit strange that she kept going on about going back to Diagon Alley, after how upset you obviously were when the crowd wouldn't leave you alone," mused Hermione.

"It was obvious to _us_ ," said Ron. "I think Ginny just thought he was annoyed by the inconvenience. She's convinced that people will leave him alone if he talks to them."

Harry laughed hollowly, and Hermione shook her head. "Oh well," she said. "I'm sorry things didn't work out with her. Are you OK about that?"

"I'm fine... at least, I am now," said Harry. "I wasn't at first, but this summer has been just what I needed. And I know it was you, Ron, that persuaded your family that it was fine to leave me in your room on my own for most of the time, so thank you."

"My pleasure, mate," said Ron. "Can't promise I'll be able to do the same now we're here, though. But I'll try my best."

Harry hugged him, but just then there was a loud clanking sound and the gates swung open to reveal Filch, who glared at them. "I suppose you think you're all too important to turn up when everyone else does, do you?" he grumbled. "Come on, then. The Headmistress says you're to come with me. Where are your trunks?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other, alarmed, but Hermione just rolled her eyes and said: "Still on the train, obviously. Isn't it still the case that all the large luggage is brought up to school separately?"

Filch glared even more fiercely, but did not respond; he turned and began to trudge up the stone steps leading to the castle's oak front doors. Harry was lost in thought as he followed, remembering the last time he had seen those doors. He was pleased to see that they looked intact and as solid as ever, although there were many burn marks on them. 

One of the doors opened as they reached it, and Professor McGonagall emerged. Harry felt his mood lighten at the sight of her, and it was difficult to say which of them was the more startled when he found himself gathering her in a tight hug. To Harry's relief, the hug he received in return was almost as tight.

"Mr Potter, I am delighted to see you," said McGonagall, as they stood back from each other. "And you too, of course, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger. I am sorry that the three of you had an uncomfortable experience on the train, but I suppose we should probably have foreseen it. My apologies for that."

"You have nothing to apologise for, Professor," said Harry. "We did want to be treated normally, so I feel a bit bad that we've already drawn attention to ourselves."

"Nonsense," said McGonagall. "Being treated normally is a two-way process, and it sounds as if that's far from what happened on the train. I can assure you that I will be speaking to all the students about this matter when they arrive."

Harry's heart sank, and Hermione winced. "It was actually worse at King's Cross than on the train," said Ron. "At least we could shut the door on them when we were in our carriage. At the station, we could hardly move for people surrounding us."

"The thing is, I don't really understand what they actually _want_ ," said Hermione. "A few were asking for autographs, but most of them weren't even asking any questions. They just seemed to want us to be _with_ them."

"I will make it my business to ensure that the three of you can complete your final year with as little interference as possible," said McGonagall, surprisingly fiercely.

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry. "We really don't want any special treatment, but it would be nice if you could persuade the students to back off a bit. Just let us know if there's anything we can do to help you."

"What do you want us to do until everyone else arrives?" asked Ron. "Shall we just go up to Gryffindor Tower and wait?"

"As a matter of fact, no," said McGonagall. "We've had to make a few changes, just for this year. You won't actually be staying in Gryffindor Tower. I'm sorry," she continued, when she saw the looks on their faces, "but we've never had a group of eighth-year students before, so there are no rooms available in the four Houses. There _are_ a few spaces in some of the rooms, of course, because some students didn't survive the war, but we felt that it would be too upsetting to rearrange the remaining students just to free up some more rooms. So we've opened up the guest rooms along the cloisters. They each have two beds, and that gives us just enough space to accommodate the eighth-years."

"That seems like a good solution," said Hermione. "But what about common rooms?"

"Well, there's a sitting room at the end of the cloisters that we're going to use for an eighth-year common room, and of course you'll each have access to your own House common room whenever you like," said McGonagall. "We don't want to keep the eighth-years totally segregated – we think you'll be an excellent influence on the younger students. We won't allow them in _your_ area, though, don't worry. So that should help to prevent incidents like today's."

"Actually, Professor, I've been thinking about the common rooms this summer," said Harry. Ron and Hermione looked at him in surprise. "I actually almost got in touch with you to make a suggestion," Harry continued, "but it felt as if it might have been a bit arrogant, and I've been accused of arrogance a few too many times lately." Hermione smiled sadly at him at this, and Ron patted him on the shoulder soothingly.

McGonagall, however, raised her eyebrows. "Do go on, Potter," she said. "I'm always interested to hear your thoughts."

Harry wasn't at all sure that this could be entirely true, but decided to take her at her word. "Well, the thing is... I love the history of the Houses, and the idea that they all have their own characteristics, and even the rivalry – Quidditch would have been rubbish without that, wouldn't it? But I also think that some of the issues that came to light during the war were exacerbated by the fact that the Houses didn't mix much socially, so I was wondering if you might consider removing some of the segregation. Like, you know, allowing everyone to use any of the four common rooms. You could still keep the sleeping areas private if you wanted to, and of course each House would still be responsible for what goes on in their own common room. But I think it'd be really helpful if everyone felt they'd be welcome anywhere. Otherwise, I can't see how things will move forward, and I'm a bit worried about the Slytherins in particular. I think they'll be shunned, and that'll only make things even worse. I'm not saying that if you make this change then everything will instantly be fine, but I think it'd help." His face was hot with embarrassment by the time he finished speaking, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact with McGonagall, whose face had remained as impassive as usual throughout his speech. 

Then, however, she suddenly smiled, and Harry found himself being hugged by the Headmistress for the second time that day. This time, she even planted a kiss on his forehead as she let go of him, and Harry's face doubled in temperature. He looked away, flustered, and saw that Hermione was beaming at him, while Ron's jaw was hanging open.

"Potter, I am impressed," said McGonagall. "And not just because I heard you correctly use the word 'exacerbated', startling though that was. I am impressed, and slightly embarrassed. I'm embarrassed because everything you said is not only very wise and sensible but also very obvious... yet you are the first person to make this suggestion, and it should have been _me_. I'm afraid we've all been so busy just trying to get the school ready to open on time that we haven't even considered changing anything, and that was remiss of us. I wish you _had_ contacted me earlier about it, but there's still time to act on it. I just need to speak to the staff and relevant portraits to warn them, and then amend my opening speech to the students."

Harry grinned, relieved. Then he frowned, suddenly worried. "You won't tell them it was my suggestion, though, will you?" he asked. "I don't want people to think that's why you're doing it."

"If that's what you'd prefer, Potter, I won't tell the students," said McGonagall. "I think I'd better tell the staff, though, if only to explain why I didn't mention it earlier." Harry nodded.

"So how will it work?" asked Ron. "Will you just tell the portraits to let everyone in?"

"No, I think it might be a good idea to still have passwords, actually," said McGonagall. "There's no reason the password can't be the same for all four Houses, of course. But there are still Death Eaters who haven't been caught, and their side had control of the castle for most of last year and might have left some loopholes, so if any of them managed to get back in then it would be useful to have that extra layer of security."

Hermione nodded slowly. "That makes sense," she said. Then she punched Harry in the arm. "But you! Why didn't you say anything about this until now? It's a great idea!"

"I told you, I was worried you'd think I was being a bit too full of myself," said Harry sheepishly. "I wasn't sure if I _was_ being a bit too full of myself. Ow!"

Hermione had just punched him again. "Stop it," she scolded. "Don't pay any attention to Ginny. I promise I'll tell you if I think you're getting too big for your boots. And, for your information, I've _never_ thought that about you since I've met you."

Ron looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry I can't say the same, mate," he said, "but you know I was stupid in fourth year, don't you? And I was wrong, and I hope I've grown up enough not to make that mistake again." 

Harry gave them each a one-armed hug, and McGonagall beamed at them all. "Now, the start-of-term banquet is still a couple of hours away, and I'm sure Mr Weasley, at least, would welcome a snack," she said, at which Ron grinned unashamedly. "Why don't the three of you go and wait in the Great Hall, and I'll get one of the elves to bring you something to keep you going? We won't be able to sort out rooms until all the eighth-years are here and we can agree on the pairings, so you'll have to be patient."

"As long as there's food, Professor, we can be patient all day," said Ron.

*****

By the time they'd gone the short distance to the Great Hall, though, their mood had changed. Harry had unwillingly revisited the scene of his final showdown with Voldemort many times during the sleepless nights of the last few months, but for some reason he'd forgotten about it while standing in the Entrance Hall. Now that he was suddenly confronted with a visual reminder, he felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. 

Unlike the front doors of the castle, the Great Hall looked absolutely spotless, and Harry found that he was very grateful to whoever had made sure that this was the case. Unable to stop himself, he walked over to the spot where he'd been standing when he'd destroyed Voldemort... at least, he _thought_ it was the right spot. He looked around him; there was no sign that anything had ever happened there. He let out a shuddering breath he'd been unaware he was holding.

"Are you OK, mate?" asked Ron quietly, coming to stand beside him. "I'm a bit freaked out being in here again, and I didn't even do anything."

"Well, you know _that's_ not true, but I know what you mean," said Harry. "And I'm totally freaked out, but I'm sure I'll get over it. I'm glad we're here on our own, actually. I think it would have been more of a shock if it was full of people, for some reason."

"I can't stop picturing the row of dead bodies along the middle of the floor," admitted Hermione. "So many times during the summer, I couldn't sleep, and that image was what always kept me awake."

"I had that a few times, but the one that kept sticking in _my_ head in the middle of the night was Fred's face as he died," said Ron, taking Hermione's hand and squeezing it.

Harry took hold of their spare hands, so that the three of them were joined in a triangle. "We're idiots, aren't we? All three of us," he said, smiling wryly. "We've all had trouble sleeping this summer, it seems, so why haven't we talked about it to each other? I thought it was just me, and I didn't want to depress you by reminding you of it. I'm betting both of you were thinking the same as me, weren't you?"

Hermione looked a bit ashamed. "I'm sorry," she said, rubbing their hands with her thumbs. "I did wonder whether either of you were having problems, but I didn't want to worry you in case you weren't."

"I could tell neither of you were sleeping, actually," said Ron. "But I figured you'd talk about it when you were ready, and until then there was no need to burden you with the fact that I couldn't either. It helped quite a bit that I knew it was happening to all three of us, though. And you know what, Harry? Your new touchy-feely-ness has made a difference too."

"My... touchy-feely-ness?" said Harry, bewildered. 

Ron held up his hands, which were still joined to those of Hermione and Harry. "You never used to do _this_ ," he said. "And you hug us all the time these days. Today you even hugged _McGonagall!_ I like it, that's all I'm saying. I find it very comforting."

"I do too," said Hermione. 

Harry beamed at them both, and released their hands so that he could engulf them in a hug. "Did I really not do this before?" he wondered, as he stepped back. "It wasn't a deliberate decision, I promise you. I don't think I'll be hugging _everyone_ , though, don't worry. Just people who are special to me."

At that moment, a house-elf popped into the hall with a huge tray full of bacon butties and a jug of coffee.

"That elf is going on my hugging list," said Ron, as he attempted to shove a whole sandwich into his mouth in one go.

*****

Several hours later, Harry, Ron and Hermione were still seated at the end of the Gryffindor table, but now the remaining eight-years were scattered around an otherwise empty Great Hall. The banquet hadn't been as uncomfortable as Harry had feared: McGonagall had stopped any of the younger students approaching the three of them by the simple expedient of standing beside them as the hall filled up. She'd moved away only when the other Gryffindor eighth-years arrived to occupy the surrounding bench spaces, and by then it seemed that the younger students had got the message. They'd had it reinforced by McGonagall's welcoming speech, in which she had made it clear that she was disappointed with the behaviour on the train, and would not be allowing a repeat of anything similar. Harry wished she could have done it without actually mentioning his name, but he supposed it was as well for her to be absolutely clear what she was talking about.

The announcement about the relaxed segregation between the Houses had caused a great deal of excited whispering. As promised, McGonagall had _not_ mentioned Harry's involvement with this, which meant that he'd been able to gaze around the hall to see people's reactions while their attention was still fixed on the Headteacher. He'd noticed that the Slytherin table, which was much sparser than the other three, had seemed a little worried, but mostly as excited as the others... with one exception. Malfoy, who was the only returning Slytherin eighth-year, had been sitting slightly apart from his housemates, looking uncomfortable and not speaking unless spoken to; when the news about the common rooms had been revealed, he'd raised his eyebrows but had otherwise seemed unmoved. 

When McGonagall had gone on to explain about the arrangements for the eighth-years, however, Malfoy had sat bolt upright, his eyes wide with what Harry had thought might be fear, before visibly slumping and apparently becoming very interested in his fingernails. Now that the eighth-years were alone in the hall waiting for McGonagall to return to discuss room allocations, Malfoy's head was still down, and Harry's thoughts were racing as he continued to gaze at him.

"I know what you're thinking," murmured Ron into his ear, making Harry jump slightly. "You're going to offer to share a room with Malfoy, aren't you?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "Bloody hell, Ron," he said. "Have you finally got the hang of Legilimency?"

"No, mate, and even if I had I don't think I'd be able to do it silently, do you?" said Ron. "But I do know _you_. And, more importantly, I can count. There are twelve eighth-year boys and eight girls. _Someone's_ going to have to share with Malfoy, and we both know that there's no one else in this room who'll _want_ to. And _he's_ obviously worked that out as well, which is why he looks as if he'd rather be in Azkaban right now. And you're thinking that it's not such a big deal, because it's not as if you'll have to spend every minute of the day with him, and you're also thinking that actually it'd be nice to do something that would help McGonagall, because if someone doesn't volunteer then she'll have to find a solution, and you're thinking that as a matter of fact you do owe his mother a huge favour and this might help to repay that, and then you're _also_ thinking that it would send out a really positive message if everyone could see that _you_ two can get along... but, mainly, you've always been a bit fascinated with him and you're intrigued at the thought of getting to know him a bit better." 

Harry stared at Ron throughout this speech, increasingly dumbfounded. Ron cocked his head to one side and raised his eyebrows as he finished, with a clear look of "am I right or am I right?"

"I tell you what, Ron," said Harry, when he had regained the power of speech. "You are going to be the greatest Auror that ever lived. What happened to the Ron who had the emotional range of a teaspoon?" 

"I think he spent too much time with you and Hermione," said Ron, grinning. "You made him think about things other than Quidditch! It was all downhill from there."

Harry laughed. "OK, so assuming you were right about everything you said – which is uncanny, by the way, and I wish I could work out stuff like that – would you be OK with it? People would be expecting _us_ to share."

"It'd be a bit weird at first, I suppose, after we've been sleeping together for so long," said Ron thoughtfully. "Stop smirking, you prat! But, like you said – well, like you said in my _head_ – it's not that big a deal. We'll still spend lots of time together. And remember how I said I can count? All four Houses have got an odd number of boys. So if you and I shared, either Neville, Seamus or Dean would have to share with someone from another House. And I reckon it'd be fun sharing with any of them, so if you're really OK at the thought of sharing with Malfoy then I'm fine with it too."

"That's assuming he _agrees_ ," said Harry, giving Ron a quick hug. "It might take some persuading."

"I bet it won't take as much as you think," said Ron. "He may be annoying, but he's not stupid, and he'll realise you're his best option. Hey, Hermione, what was all that with Parvati?" 

Harry looked up as Hermione came to sit next to him. "I didn't even notice you'd moved!" he exclaimed. "Have I missed something? What's up with Parvati?"

"Nothing's up with her," said Hermione. "She was just worried that _I'd_ be upset if she wanted to share a room with her sister, but of course I told her I'd be fine. I need to make sure I spend time with her this year, though. She and Lavender were very close, and I keep expecting to see the two of them together – it must be much worse for her. And for you, Ron, of course."

Ron's eyes looked slightly watery, but he smiled anyway. "I _will_ miss her, actually, which is weird considering how desperate I was for her to leave me alone in fifth year," he said. "We'll have to try and come up with a way to commemorate her life. You know, a Gryffindor thing. She died fighting for what she believed in – you can't get much more Gryffindor than that, can you?"

Hermione was about to answer when Professor McGonagall swept back into the hall, so she settled for squeezing Ron's hand.

"My apologies for keeping you all waiting so long," said McGonagall. "Thank you for your patience. Now, as I explained earlier, we have ten rooms awaiting you in the cloisters, so all that remains is to agree on who's sharing with whom."

"Please, Professor," said Parvati, after sharing a nod with Hermione. "The girls have all agreed already, if you're happy to go along with what we've sorted out?"

"That seems like an admirable way to proceed," said McGonagall approvingly. "It's a bit easier for the girls, mind you, because there are even numbers of you from each House. Unless...?"

"Yes, I'd like to share with Padma, please," said Parvati. "And Hermione's agreed to be with Morag, which leaves Mandy with Lisa and Hannah with Susan."

"You're all happy with those pairings?" asked McGonagall, looking round at the girls. When they all nodded, she continued, "Excellent. In that case, please make your way to the cloisters and choose your rooms, and I will be along shortly to check that all is well. The rooms are all identical, so I don't think you'll be gaining any advantage over the boys by having first choice."

The girls left the hall, chattering excitedly, and McGonagall turned to the boys. "Now, this is a bit more difficult," she began. "I don't suppose..."

"Excuse me, Professor," said Harry, raising his hand. "I'd like to share with Malfoy."

Malfoy had still been sitting separately with his head down until this statement, but now his head snapped up and he stared at Harry, his brow furrowed with what appeared to be a mixture of fury and bewilderment. (Harry was a bit taken aback to realise that he could interpret Malfoy's body language, but decided to put this thought aside to examine later.)

McGonagall's reaction was less extreme, but she did raise her eyebrows before smiling warmly at Harry. "That is acceptable... if Mr Malfoy is agreeable, of course?" She turned to look at Malfoy enquiringly; he moved his gaze from Harry to her and, after a few seconds, nodded. Harry felt very relieved and glanced at Ron, who winked.

The remaining pairs were sorted out very quickly (Ron ended up with Neville, who looked delighted), and McGonagall led the twelve boys to the cloisters. Malfoy waited until everyone else had moved before joining the back of the procession; Harry walked beside him, but neither of them spoke. Harry figured they'd have to talk eventually, but that it might be easier when it was just the two of them.

He started to reconsider this thought twenty minutes later, when they were finally alone in the last room in the cloisters, next door to Seamus and Dean. Their trunks had all magically materialised in their rooms as they'd stepped inside, and McGonagall had left them all to unpack, stating that she'd see them at breakfast. 

"Which bed d'you want?" asked Harry, deciding that this was probably a safe enough conversation opener.

Malfoy, who was standing uncertainly in the middle of the room, frowned. "Look, Potter, I know why you're doing this, but you don't have to, I promise," he said. His voice was slightly croaky, and Harry wondered when he'd last actually used it. "I'm not going to do anything," Malfoy continued. "I haven't had any contact with any of the... people I used to know, and I don't want to. I just want to try and put all that behind me and pass my exams. I understand why you think you need to keep an eye on me, but I don't want to make _your_ final year miserable. I know you'd rather be with Weasley, so it's fine if you swap."

Harry stared at him, bemused. "You think I offered to room with you so I could _keep an eye on you?"_ he asked. "Hmm. Actually, I suppose I can see why you would think that. But it's not true. There are several reasons why I offered, but that's not one of them. And yes, it'd be nice to be with Ron, but it's not as if I won't see him, and I really don't mind sharing with you, believe it or not. And, before you ask, Ron understands why I suggested this, and he's fine with it. Now then, I _know_ you're going to ask what my reasons were, and I'm happy to answer, but could you please answer my first question before I do, so that we can get on with unpacking while we talk? Which bed d'you want?"

"Erm... I think it might be better if I had the one next to the bathroom," said Malfoy, after a lengthy silence. "I promise this isn't intended as an insult, but I suspect I'm likely to spend longer in there than you are, so it would probably disturb you more if you were right next to it." He looked up at Harry warily, clearly unsure what response to expect.

Harry grinned. "Bed next to bathroom, check," he said. "It's fine, you're absolutely right – I usually spend enough time in there to get clean and no more. You're welcome to primp as long as you like. It's brilliant that we all get an en-suite bathroom, though, isn't it? I've never lived anywhere this posh!" He dragged his trunk onto the bed opposite the bathroom door and started pulling everything out.

" _I_ have, but you knew that," said Malfoy. "And I'm sorry that your impression of the place was probably not a very good one. I'm sorry for _lots_ of things, obviously, but let's just stick with that one for today." He sat down on his bed and sighed, ignoring his trunk.

It took a moment for Harry to work out what on earth he was talking about, but when he did he mentally kicked himself. "I _did_ notice it was posh, though," he said. "Listen, I bet we're both going to keep accidentally saying things that remind each other of stuff that happened in the war, so can we please agree to... I don't know how to put it, actually."

"Not turn every innocent comment into a major drama?" suggested Malfoy, looking slightly sheepish.

Harry grinned. "Well, yes," he said. "And I suspect I'm just as likely to do it as you, don't worry, so if I do... please remind me of this conversation."

"I'll try," said Malfoy. "But... Well, it's only fair to warn you that I might not dare. We do seem to be having a civilised conversation right now, for which I'm grateful, but me telling _you_ that you're being a drama queen is another matter. It might conflict with my resolution not to start any trouble."

"Hmm, I see what you mean," said Harry. "And I don't suppose our history helps, when all we've ever done is react badly to each other. But I really do want to move forward rather than keep looking back. That's one of the reasons I offered to room with you. I know we probably won't trust each other immediately, but I promise you I'll try, and if you can too then we'll be fine. And if people can see that _we're_ fine, I think it'll really help to fix some of the damage the war did."

"Oh, so _that's_ why you're doing this," said Malfoy. "All right. That makes sense, I suppose. I'm happy to be the... well, I was going to say 'dark side mascot', but that makes it sound like I'm still Dark, and I'm really not. But you know what I mean."

"I do," said Harry. "But I said that was _one_ of the reasons. It wasn't the _main_ one. Actually, the main one at first was that you looked so worried when McGonagall announced what was happening, and I'd already noticed that none of your friends are here, so I wondered who _would_ share with you, and realised that probably no one else would want to. Sorry about that, but I don't think it should surprise you. But, the more I thought about it, the more I realised that I liked the idea of getting to know you now that we have no reason to fight. So that's actually the main reason I went ahead and offered."

Malfoy stared at him for a while, and then smiled and stood up, holding out his hand, which Harry shook, startled to find that his heart was racing. "Thank you," said Malfoy. "I'm very grateful. I was expecting to spend the year being shunned, at best. When it turned out that none of the others were coming back, I thought I'd have to share with the Slytherin seventh-years, and I wasn't sure how they'd react to me. But none of them has as much reason to hate me as any of the non-Slytherin eighth-years do, so I did panic a bit when I found out I'd have to share with one of you."

"Who would you have preferred?" asked Harry, curious. 

Malfoy winced. "I'm actually pretty sure they _all_ hate me," he said. "So it would've been bad whoever it was. But I may have to reconsider this, given that you're being unexpectedly nice to me, and you've got more reason to hate me than _anyone_."

"I did think I hated you, before last year," admitted Harry. "But I don't any more. I saw some of the things you were forced to do, and how you hated doing them, and that made me realise that you weren't like I thought. Before, I'd always assumed that you _wanted_ to be evil. But then I realised you didn't really have much choice."

"You saw... How?" 

"I had a sort of mental link with Voldemort," said Harry, noting that Malfoy flinched at the use of the name. "I didn't see _everything_ he was doing, but I did get a few glimpses. And you were there a lot of the time. When he made you torture that blond Death Eater, for example."

Malfoy stared at him, open-mouthed. "I had no idea anyone knew about any of that," he said eventually. "Does... Did you tell people?"

"No," said Harry. "At least... No, I don't think so. I don't think I told Ron or Hermione, and I haven't really talked to anyone else."

"I can't decide whether I'm relieved or horrified that you know," admitted Malfoy. "A bit of both, I think. But I'm definitely horrified that you were linked to him. Did it... Did it hurt? Could he see what _you_ were doing, as well?"

"I tried not to think about that, but I think he probably could... although not very often, or he wouldn't have spent so long trying to catch me," said Harry thoughtfully. "But yes, it did hurt."

They both sat there in silence for a few minutes, until Malfoy spoke. "I think I owe you another apology," he said. "I feel stupid admitting this, but it honestly never occurred to me that you might be having a bad time as well. Everything just always seemed to go your way, as far as I could tell, so I assumed you were quite happy."

Harry gaped. "You thought I was happy when Dumbledore died? Or Sirius? Or Cedric? Or... well, you know how many people died. You really thought I was _happy?_ You know even less about me than I thought you did." 

"No, no," said Malfoy hastily. "That didn't come out right. Sorry. I meant that... well, on each of those occasions _you_ might have died, but you didn't. And I realise _now_ that you'd probably rather it was you than any of them, but at the time all I could think about was that things hadn't gone well for our side, and that meant things got worse for me. I was too preoccupied to think about what you might be feeling – I think I just vaguely assumed it was the opposite of me. And... erm... drama?"

Harry stared at him, puzzled, and then laughed when he remembered their earlier conversation. "Fair point," he admitted. Then he nodded slowly. "OK, that all makes sense, I suppose. And you know what? I think it's good that we're finally starting to understand each other's point of view. Let's not try and do it all at once, though, shall we? I'm knackered. It's been an exhausting day. I think I might get an early night – is that OK with you?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" said Malfoy. "It's fine. And actually I'm tired too, so I fancy an early night as well. I think I'll just unpack quickly first, though – I hate waking up to a messy room."

"I'll try to remember that," said Harry. "It'll shock you to hear that I'm not the tidiest of people. But I bet I can unpack quicker than you."

Malfoy flashed a grin at him and opened his trunk. "I wish there was an unpacking spell," he said, as he started putting clothes into the wardrobe next to his bed. "I once tried to get 'Unpack!' to work, but nothing happened. I suppose the 'Pack!' spell only works because all the things are going into one place."

"I was so impressed the first time I saw that spell," said Harry, shoving handfuls of socks and underwear into a drawer. "But you're right – an unpacking spell would be even more amazing."

"Potter! That's cheating!" protested Malfoy, realising that Harry was paying no attention to how his clothes were arranged but was just putting them away haphazardly.

"It's quick, though, and I'm tired," said Harry. "I'll sort it properly tomorrow, but I can hardly keep my eyes open now. You've just reminded me of something, though. I always think of you as 'Malfoy', but I call all the other eighth-years by their first names, so I think it'd make sense for me to try calling you 'Draco', if that's OK? And maybe you could try calling me 'Harry'?"

Malfoy thought about this for a moment, then nodded. "All right... Harry," he said, smiling shyly. "It'll take a bit of getting used to, but I'll try. What about the others? What d'you think I should call them?"

Harry had finished unpacking and was stripping down to his boxers. "Their first names, obviously, but I'm not sure how you should start. Maybe we could just try calling each other 'Draco' and 'Harry' a lot at breakfast tomorrow, and take it from there. But I'm too tired to think about it now. Goodnight, Draco." 

"Goodnight, Harry," said Draco, as Harry crawled into bed and fell instantly asleep.

*****

A week later, the eighth-years had settled into a comfortable but intense routine. The professors, rather than easing them back into their studies gradually, seemed to be adopting the strategy of giving them as much work as possible, and the eighth-years were spending most of their free time either studying in their rooms, or in the library.

Draco was still a bit of an outsider within the group, but gradually he seemed to becoming more accepted; Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville were the only ones who actually started conversations with him, but the others did at least now respond civilly if he spoke to them. At first, they'd been taken aback and reacted angrily, especially when he'd addressed them by their first names, but Draco's own demeanour had remained calm and he hadn't retaliated; Harry thought it was mainly this, rather than his own support, that had changed people's opinion of Draco, and he felt oddly proud.

What _hadn't_ improved was the reaction of the younger students to Harry, and he was getting a bit sick of it. 

"They're out there again, Harry," said Ron, as he returned to his seat in the library after going out to the toilet. "You'd think they'd have better things to do on a Friday night. And I still think you should tell McGonagall."

Harry sighed. "I would if they actually pestered me like they did last week," he said. "But they're not actually doing anything McGonagall said they shouldn't. They hang around near wherever I am and follow me wherever I go, but they never actually approach me."

"You know that McGonagall _would_ stop them if you mentioned it, though, don't you?" Hermione pointed out.

"I suppose so, but it feels like a pathetic thing to complain about," said Harry. "They're not doing any harm."

"They _are_ , though," said Ron. "You look miserable every time you see them. You shouldn't have to put up with it. I'm just relieved they lost interest in me and Hermione."

"I'm sure they'll lose interest in me, too, eventually," said Harry. "But I don't want to draw any more attention to myself by asking for special treatment. I can put up with them till they get bored."

"I agree with Ron – you shouldn't have to," said Draco. "But I can understand why you don't want to report them. I've got an idea, though. Give me your hoodie."

They all stared at him, puzzled. "What?" asked Harry.

"Your hoodie. Give it to me," said Draco. "Have I got the word right? That's what you call that red thing you've got on, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Harry slowly. Intrigued, but trusting Draco, he stood up and pulled the garment over his head, handing it to his roommate.

Draco removed his jumper and put the hoodie on. "Hmm, this is really warm," he said, stretching his arms out to examine them. "I might have to get one. Now, here's the thing: when we came into the library, you saw all those girls at the end of the corridor and you put your hood up. So if _I_ leave, wearing this hoodie with the hood up, and Ron and Hermione leave with me, I think there's a pretty good chance your stalkers will think I'm you, and follow us. All you have to do is wait a few minutes while we lead them away, and then you can escape and get some time to yourself."

Ron grinned delightedly. "I think it'll work, Harry," he said. "Are you up for it?"

Harry beamed, then reached for Draco's jumper and put it on. "I can't believe it'll work, but what the hell," he said. "It'll be fun to try. And this jumper isn't as warm as my hoodie, but it feels so... soft. And smooth. I've never worn anything that felt so good! Is it some sort of magic wool?"

Draco laughed. "No, you idiot, it's just cashmere," he said. "But it suits you. Matches your eyes."

"We're a pair of walking stereotypes, aren't we?" said Harry, who was still stroking his own arm. "Me in bright red and you in dark green. I don't think I've got any green clothes, actually. We'll have to go clothes shopping sometime. Well, maybe not for a while – better wait till the stalkers have got bored."

"Speaking of which, no time like the present," said Hermione. "Shall we give it a try?" She stood up and moved towards the door, and Draco and Ron joined her.

"Where shall we go?" wondered Ron. 

"Harry, where do _you_ want to go?" asked Draco.

Harry thought about this for a moment. "It'd be nice to be able to walk round the lake in peace," he said. "I haven't tried to go there yet."

"Right then, how about we lead them a merry dance inside the castle?" Ron suggested. "We could wander for quite a while without having to turn round."

"That'd be great, but please don't feel you've got to keep it up all night," said Harry. "If you can manage an hour, that'd be brilliant, though. If I do make it to the lake, I'll head back after an hour."

"I love it when a plan comes together," said Hermione, with a giggle. "Hood up, Draco!"

Draco pulled the red hood over his head, and bent his neck so that his face was invisible. Slinging Harry's book bag over his shoulder and shoving his hands into the hoodie's front pocket, he nudged Hermione with his elbow. "After you," he said. 

Hermione and Ron grinned at Harry and set off. Draco turned to give Harry an unexpected wink before following them. Harry was left alone at the table, all too aware of the fluttering feeling he seemed to keep getting in his chest whenever Draco looked at him.

*****

A couple of hours later, Harry returned to his room, feeling more invigorated than he had in a very long time, although he was also aching in places he'd forgotten he could ache. When he burst through the door, he was surprised to see Ron and Hermione sitting on his bed, talking to Draco. They both jumped up when they saw him.

"Where have you been?!" demanded Hermione. "You said an hour! We were just about to start searching for you!"

"Sorry about that," said Harry, but he was in too good a mood to feel guilty for long. "I did go down to the lake, but I passed the Quidditch changing rooms on the way and had the urge to go flying. It's ages since I've been on a broom. I forgot about the time, sorry. But thank you so much for giving me the chance to get away. I hadn't realised how much I needed it, but I feel so much better now."

"You do _look_ a lot better," said Ron, peering at his face. Then he laughed. "And we had a lot of fun tricking your stalkers, actually. Did you see them when you came in?"

"No – where would they have been?" asked Harry.

"Yes!" exclaimed Hermione with a fist-pump, while Ron and Draco high-fived each other. 

"We led them round the whole castle, but after an hour or so we headed back here," said Draco. "They were all hanging about at the end of the corridor for a while – Neville went out to check, and he said they were still there twenty minutes ago. But we were hoping they'd assume you'd settled in for the night and go away, and it looks as if we were right."

"We figured that if they saw the real you coming back in, it wouldn't be the end of the world because at least you'd have escaped for a while," said Hermione. "But if they didn't see you at all, that's even better – it means we can do it again!"

"Well, let's hope that's not necessary, but it's good to know it's an option," said Harry. "Thank you. All of you. I really appreciate it."

"Any time, mate," said Ron. "It was a right laugh. But I think I'll leave you to it now, if that's OK – I don't want Neville to think I'm ignoring him."

"And I'm going to look for Parvati," said Hermione. "I'm getting on fine with Morag too, before you ask, but we both had different friends before we started sharing a room, so we agreed that we wouldn't worry too much about trying to spend time with each other. It's nice, actually – I didn't really know any of the non-Gryffindor girls very well before now, but we're all in and out of each other's rooms all the time. We've been visiting all the common rooms, too. Actually, I was going to ask you about that, Draco – the only one we haven't been in yet is Slytherin, because it feels a bit forced when none of us are Slytherins. Please would you come with us sometime? I'd like to get to know the people in there. Harry's idea was a good one – we needed the segregation to end to move forward."

Draco stared at Harry, who glared mildly at Hermione. "That was _your_ idea?" he asked. "I should've guessed. But why didn't they give you any credit for it?"

"Because I asked them not to," said Harry shortly. "Yes, OK, it _was_ my idea, but I'm sure they would have come up with it eventually. I was just trying to hurry things up a bit. I didn't want people to think it was only happening because it was _me_ that suggested it."

"Well, I agree with Hermione – it _is_ a good idea," said Draco. "I know some of the Slytherins were a bit worried at first, because they thought they'd be attacked just for being in Slytherin and the common room was their only safe place, but that hasn't happened, and I think they feel much more relaxed now. And I think _that's_ down to you as well, actually – people _have_ noticed the way you've been behaving towards me, and they're mostly following your example. So that's two plans of yours that have worked. Anyone would think you were the Chosen One or something... oh, wait..."

Harry threw a pillow at his head and Draco caught it, grinning. "Anyway, Hermione, yes, of course I would be happy to escort you to the Slytherin common room at your convenience. It will be historic – I'm not sure any Gryffindor has ever been in there."

Ron and Harry looked at each other and burst out laughing. " _We_ have," they chorused. "And we talked to _you_ while we were there, actually," added Harry. "I'm heartbroken you don't remember!"

"I don't remember because it _didn't happen_ ," said Draco, but he looked puzzled.

"I'll leave you to explain, Harry," said Ron. "Come on, Hermione. We've got socialising to do."

"I'm looking forward to our date, Draco!" called Hermione, laughing, as she followed Ron out of the door.

*****

After Harry explained the Slytherin common room story to Draco – who seemed most fixated on the fact that they'd managed to successfully brew Polyjuice Potion in _second year_ – they both lay on their beds chatting, which had become part of their nightly routine. Then Harry suddenly realised that he was still wearing Draco's cashmere jumper. 

"Where would I get a jumper like this?" he asked, running his hands over his chest. "I really like the feel of it."

"Well, any good menswear shop should have some," said Draco. "They're not hard to find, just expensive. Where do you normally buy your clothes?" 

"Erm... I've never actually bought any clothes," said Harry, embarrassed. "I've thought about it a few times this summer, but never actually got round to it."

"You've _never bought any clothes?_ Who gets them for you, then?" Draco had sat up and was staring at Harry in disbelief.

"Promise not to laugh?" Harry waited for Draco's nod before continuing. "Most of the clothes I've worn recently came from Hermione."

"Hermione _buys your clothes for you?_ Wow. I knew you were close, but I had no idea she did _that_."

"No, she doesn't do it _regularly_ ," said Harry. "She only did it once. But all the clothes I had before that were my cousin's cast-offs, and they were all too big for me, and I lost them all anyway. So for most of last year the only clothes I had were the ones Hermione bought me, and I never had the chance to buy any more until this summer – but the one time I went out shopping, there were crowds following me, and it was awful."

"I'm still confused," said Draco. "I understand why you haven't bought any clothes in the last year. And you've told me about how your aunt and uncle treated you, so I understand why you only had your cousin's old clothes. But how did you manage to lose them all? And why _did_ Hermione buy you some? She has good taste, though, I must admit. You look much better than you used to. And I _love_ this hoodie."

"You can keep it – I'll get another one," said Harry. "OK, short version: you know we were on the run for most of last year? Well, the night that started, we were at Bill Weasley's wedding, so we were all wearing dress robes. We had to Apparate from there when the Death Eaters turned up, so we left all our stuff behind. But Hermione saved the day as usual, because she'd been preparing for ages in case something like that happened, and she had this amazing magic bag that had _everything_ in it. Including a load of clothes for all three of us. For her and Ron she'd just put their own clothes in, but she said it was about time I had some proper clothes, so she went out and bought some for me, and I've been wearing them ever since."

"Ah, I see now," said Draco. "Well, you're in luck. I _love_ clothes shopping, so I'd love to help you. When shall we go?"

"Not till the stalkers have got bored," said Harry. "Sorry – I just think it would be a nightmare if I tried to go shopping at the moment."

"I bet any of the wizarding shopkeepers would be happy to close up their shop for an hour or two so you could have a private shopping session, you know," Draco pointed out. "But that wouldn't be as much fun. You wouldn't necessarily want to buy everything from one shop. And you couldn't ask a Muggle shop to do that, anyway."

"I hate to ask for that sort of preferential treatment, though, you know that," said Harry. "I suppose there's less chance of crowds in a Muggle shop, but I wouldn't put it past them. I think I'd prefer to wait a while until things have died down. Sorry."

"Well, there _is_ one possibility," said Draco thoughtfully. "I could go shopping _for_ you, if you like. I think I know the sort of stuff you'd want, and I could always return it if you didn't like it when you tried it on."

"You really wouldn't mind?" said Harry. "That'd be great! Your clothes always look amazing, so I'd definitely trust you to make good choices."

"I'd like to say that I've often been told that, but unfortunately I only make good choices about _clothes_ ," said Draco wryly.

Harry hit him with the pillow again. "That may have been true in the past, but it's not any more," he said. "But let's stick to talking about clothes shopping for the moment. How do we sort out the money? I have plenty, don't worry, but how do I pay if you're the one doing the shopping?"

"That's easy, at least if you trust me – you just need to get a Gringotts bank draft that specifies that I can charge everything to your account," said Draco. "Wizarding families often use them when they send house-elves to do their shopping. Just send an owl to Gringotts, and they'll sort you out straight away."

"Of course I trust you, you idiot," said Harry. "I'd hardly be asking you to go and spend my money for me if I didn't, would I? That's sorted, then. What else do we need to do before this can happen?"

"Three more things, that I can think of," said Draco, after a moment's thought. "One is that I think I'd better try and get Ron or Hermione to go with me. I suspect that if I'm on my own then everyone will think I somehow stole your bank draft. And that's assuming they let me in any of the shops in the first place."

"I wish I could say you're being ridiculous, but sadly I think you're probably right," said Harry. "Hopefully you being seen shopping with them – especially shopping for _me_ – will help, though. I suspect they'll both want to go, actually. Hermione will jump at the chance. And Ron hates shopping, but I'm pretty sure he'll want to be there as a guard. Actually, if you see anything that you think would really suit _him_ , please would you get it? He never gets new clothes, and I'd like to buy some for him. And Hermione too, of course, but she does do her own shopping, so it's less urgent."

"I doubt we'll visit many unisex places, but I'll certainly keep an eye out for ginger-friendly stuff," said Draco, grinning. "Second thing: how much do you want me to buy? Just a few items, or a full wardrobe?"

"Well, everything I currently own is either in this wardrobe or in those two drawers," said Harry, pulling them open to display their contents. "I have no idea how many clothes normal people have, but I'd quite like to have a few more than I have now. So, a full wardrobe, I suppose, please, because all this stuff is getting a bit tatty. Are you sure you don't mind, though? It sounds like a huge job."

"Full wardrobe – no problem," said Draco. "It _is_ a huge job, I suppose, but it won't feel like it, because I'll enjoy it, I promise you. And I'm thrilled that there's finally something major I can do for _you_ , after everything you've done for me."

"I've not done _that_ much for you, but I'm very grateful," said Harry. "OK, what's the third thing?"

"Measurements, obviously," said Draco. "Do you have a list? How did Hermione do it?"

"You know, I've no idea," said Harry. "Oh, wait, yes I do. We had to get new dress robes for the wedding, and she measured me and Ron. Shall I ask her if she's still got them?"

"No need; I may as well just measure you myself, if that's OK," said Draco. "You might have grown a bit since then, so it'd be better to get up-to-date measurements."

"I'm more likely to have shrunk, given that we were starving for most of the time we were on the run," said Harry. "But that was before I spent the summer being fattened up again by Mrs Weasley, so who knows? Yes, by all means measure me. Have you actually got a tape measure?"

"Of course I have," said Draco, getting up and rummaging in a drawer. "All right. Get your clothes off."

" _All_ of them?" asked Harry, standing up and carefully removing Draco's jumper. He felt his face redden at the thought of Draco's hands on his body; his cock had already been at half-mast for most of the week due to the constant glimpses of Draco dressing or undressing. This had surprised him the first time he'd noticed it, but it had become a regular enough occurrence that he'd been forced to admit to himself that he was extremely attracted to Draco. He'd managed to keep this fact hidden so far – at least, he hoped he had – but he wasn't at all sure what Draco's reaction would be if he found out, and he hadn't dared mention it. He suspected that if he had to strip naked in front of Draco, though, his roommate would _probably_ notice the presence of an erect cock.

Harry cursed himself for not thinking ahead when he'd suggested going clothes shopping.

"Yes, of course all of them," said Draco, turning round with a tape measure in his hands. "You did say you wanted a full wardrobe, didn't you? That means full measurements, and they're more accurate if there's no clothes in the way. I could just do some approximate ones for off-the-shelf stuff, but it'd be better to have proper measurements in case we end up getting stuff specially made for you."

Harry sighed. "Fine," he said. "But I apologise in advance. I can't help it."

Draco looked at him quizzically, but watched in silence as Harry removed all his clothes. Harry refused to let himself break eye contact with Draco and, when the boxers finally came off, he stood there defiantly, aware that his face was bright red and his cock was the hardest it had ever been.

Draco continued to meet Harry's stare for a few seconds, but then his eyes strayed downwards. His gaze wandered over every part of Harry's body, lingering for a while on his cock. Then he walked round so that he could look at Harry from behind. Finally, he returned to stand directly in front of Harry, a bit closer than before, and looked him in the eyes again. He licked his lips before speaking.

"Harry, you have nothing to apologise for. Quite the opposite, in fact. This is a treat I did not expect. Are you sure it's still OK for me to measure you, though? I'll understand if you're too uncomfortable for me to touch you."

Harry's cock twitched visibly at that statement, but he nodded, and Draco grinned. "Sorry," he said. "I can see you're mortified, and I'm really not trying to make things worse. Can I just ask... and please forgive me if I'm totally wrong... is that because of me?" He brushed the side of Harry's cock – only the most fleeting of touches, but it was enough to make Harry shudder from head to toe.

"Yes," whispered Harry. "And I'm sorry. I've tried to ignore it, but it's kept happening every time I've seen you. I don't expect you to do anything about it, though, don't worry. Can't we just pretend it's not there?"

"Maybe I _want_ to do something about it," said Draco. "And, as for pretending it's not there, I don't think I can do that." He grabbed Harry's hand and pulled it to his crotch, where it was obvious, even through his trousers, that Draco was as hard as Harry. Harry's gaze snapped back up to meet Draco's smirk.

"But you... I didn't think you were gay," said Harry, confused. 

"I didn't think _you_ were," countered Draco. "I'm not sure _what_ I am, actually. I've fancied both girls and boys, but I've never actually done anything beyond kissing with either. But I definitely fancy _you_. I didn't realise it till this week, but I think it's been in the back of my mind for a while. But I wouldn't have dared say anything, because I never dreamed you might think of me that way."

Harry laughed. "That's just freaky," he said. A hurt look crossed Draco's face, and Harry hastened to reassure him. "No, not _freaky_ freaky! I meant that every word you just said could have been truthfully said by me. Well, except that I've never kissed a boy."

"We can't have that, can we?" said Draco. "We'd better rectify the inequality immediately. If you want to, that is."

Harry leaned forward, slightly amazed at his own daring, and gave Draco a quick peck on the lips before stepping back to look at him hesitantly. 

"Adorable though that was, I think we can do better," murmured Draco, and he pulled Harry to him and pressed their lips together very softly. He moved one hand to Harry's hair and the other to his bare arse, and then his tongue was battling with Harry's and their lips were constantly moving in an attempt to find the best way of connecting. Harry could feel Draco's clothed cock pressed against his own naked one, and Draco's hand was manoeuvring his arse so that the friction was constant. All of a sudden, the sensation was too much, and Harry found himself coming all over his own red hoodie. 

Draco held him tightly until the flood of liquid subsided, and then put his finger on Harry's lips before Harry could speak. "Don't you dare apologise for any part of that," he said sternly. "I know you were about to. But I _enjoyed_ it, and I want to do it again at the earliest opportunity. First, though, I need to measure you. And not just because it gives me an excuse to run my hands all over that amazing body of yours."

Harry blushed again. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't keen for you to do that," he said. "But what about you? Don't you want to... you know?"

Draco laughed. "I'll let you into a secret," he said. "Ron and Hermione weren't here the whole time. When you got back, they'd only just popped in to see if I'd seen you. And if they'd turned up ten minutes earlier, they would have found me wanking in the bathroom, because wearing your hoodie was a huge turn-on and I couldn't hold it in any longer. So I can wait a bit before I... you know."

Harry beamed, as he finally allowed himself to believe that Draco might actually return his feelings. "Well, if you're sure," he said. "But it'll be at the top of my to-do list after you've measured me, just so you know. So... where do you want to start? Or do you want to clean up a bit first?"

"Are you kidding?" asked Draco incredulously. "I just told you how much of a turn-on wearing your hoodie is. Can you even _imagine_ how much more of a turn-on it is when it's got _your come_ all over it? I might never take it off!"

"I suspect McGonagall might have something to say about that," remarked Harry, but he couldn't stop himself beaming again. "OK, do your worst." 

He stepped back and stretched his arms out to either side. Draco looked him up and down again approvingly, then picked up the tape measure. 

"Arms first then, if you insist," he said. "You don't have to hold them out, though. Just dangle them loosely at your sides." Harry did so, and Draco began taking measurements and writing them down. "OK... right sleeve length... left sleeve length... right bicep... left bicep... right wrist... left wrist... right half shoulder width... left half shoulder width... right full sleeve... left full sleeve..."

"You already did those," protested Harry. 

"Those last two aren't the same as the first two," said Draco. "They're just check measurements, really, but I want to be thorough."

"Be as thorough as you like," said Harry. "Your hands feel amazing."

"I'm glad you think so, because I'm not even halfway through," said Draco. "That's just as well, though, because your skin feels even more amazing, so I'd quite like to touch it as much as possible, if that's alright with you?"

Harry nodded, blushing furiously but grinning, and Draco continued. "Head... neck... full shoulder width... back width... half back length... full back length..."

"You're making these up, aren't you?" murmured Harry, feeling almost intoxicated by the touch of Draco's fingers.

"I don't need to – they're all real, and there's still loads to go," said Draco, moving in front of Harry again. "Trouser waist... jacket waist... front jacket length... front chest width... full chest. Sorry." 

Harry had shivered deliciously as Draco's fingers brushed his nipples. "Don't apologise, I'm loving it," he said. "I hope that's not all the nipple measurements?"

"It is, sorry, but there are other good ones still to come," said Draco. "In more ways than one. Oh, dear. Sorry. I'm not usually that corny."

"I'll allow you to apologise for corniness," said Harry. "Just don't stop touching me."

"Right thigh," said Draco, kneeling on the floor in front of Harry. Harry's cock, which had been gradually regaining interest in proceedings since the start of the measuring, instantly stood fully to attention when it realised how close it now was to Draco's face. "Left thigh. Right knee... left knee... right outside leg... left outside leg. Hips... hmm, I'm not sure whether to measure under or over your cock. It wouldn't normally be up there when this measurement's being taken, so I think I'd better measure under it... but then your trousers might not fit you when you're excited..."

"Draco, you're going to have to finish this very soon if you don't want come in your hair," Harry warned. Draco laughed, and then laughed even more when he cupped Harry's balls in his hand and Harry jumped. 

"Of course! The crotch measurement will cover it," said Draco, running the tape measure from the small of Harry's back, down between his legs and back up to the corresponding point on his belly. "But I'd better remember to mention to the tailor how hard you were when I measured you." 

Harry looked at him in horror, and Draco just laughed all the more. "I'm _joking_ ," he said. "I promise not to mention any of the circumstances in which these measurements were obtained. To anyone. Right inside leg... left inside leg... all done." He dropped the tape measure to the floor but continued to fondle Harry's balls, which had been the endpoint of the last measurement.

"I should probably warn you that Ron's likely to guess, whether you tell him or not," Harry told him breathlessly. "He's got _scarily_ good at noticing things. I don't know if he's noticed the effect you've been having on me this week – he hasn't mentioned it if so – but I wouldn't put it past him."

"Noted," said Draco, and then he enveloped Harry's cock with his mouth. Harry shouted – he had no idea _what_ he shouted, but there was a definite loud noise that emerged from his mouth – and Draco removed his mouth and looked up hesitantly. "Is this OK?" he asked. "I couldn't resist it any longer, but I can stop if you need me to."

"God, no, I mean yes, I mean _don't stop_ ," babbled Harry. "But don't think I've forgotten that you need to get off too."

"Oh, I will, don't you worry," promised Draco. "In fact, I suspect this will do it. Hang on."

He quickly undid his trousers, and shoved them and his boxers down to his knees in a single movement. Harry was thrilled to finally gain sight of Draco's cock, but he'd hardly had time to register what it looked like (quite similar to his own, in fact) before Draco's mouth was on him again. 

Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he might have actually passed out for a while due to the overwhelming sensation. If not, it was only a split second before he was coming even harder than before, and Draco was swallowing all of it. When he eventually released Harry's spent cock, he gave it a final all-over lick before sitting back on his heels, looking flushed but satisfied. 

Harry slumped bonelessly to the floor and pulled Draco down next to him. "Did you... oh, good, you did," he said, running a finger through the puddle of come on Draco's stomach and then licking it. "Sorry I missed it. You're just too mindblowing. I promise to pay more attention next time, though."

Draco took his hand and started stroking it. "There'll be a next time, then?" he asked, without looking up. "I was hoping there would, but I'd understand if you just wanted a one-off to get it out of your system."

Harry stared at him, taken aback. "Is that what you think I'm like?" he asked. "You're wrong, if so. I'm not a one-off sort of bloke. But if _you_ don't want to do this again... well, I never expected you to want to do it in the first place, so I'd cope. I'd be heartbroken, but I'd cope."

Draco finally met Harry's gaze. "I _don't_ think you're like that," he said, smiling shyly. "In fact, I _know_ you're not like that. But my self-confidence isn't really strong enough to believe that you'd want more than a one-off with _me_."

"Well, I do," said Harry firmly. "Ask Ron if you don't believe me. He not only worked out that I was planning to offer to share with you, he also told me that the main reason was that I've always been fascinated with you. And he was right, even though I hadn't even realised that _myself_ before he pointed it out."

"I'm not sure I'm quite ready to have _that_ conversation with your best friend," said Draco. "But when I am, I'd be very interested to hear his thoughts about our relationship. Maybe it'll come up when we go shopping."

"That'd better be soon, you know," said Harry. "I need a new hoodie, apart from all the other stuff. That one's got _two_ lots of come on it now."

"You did say I could keep it," Draco pointed out. "But we still need to buy a new one for you, so maybe I'll get myself a spare non-come-stained one while I'm at it, and keep this one for wanking to when you're not here."

"Sounds like a plan," said Harry, grinning. "D'you fancy a shower now, though? I was thinking it might be fun if we had one together."

Draco stood up quickly and then promptly fell back down, tripped by his own trousers, which were still round his ankles. Harry laughed and dragged them off him, followed by the rest of his clothes; he made sure to fold the hoodie and put it on the end of Draco's bed, but grabbed all the other clothes off the floor and flung them into the laundry basket by the door. 

"There you are," he said. "I did promise I'd try to be tidy."

Draco smiled at him. "You also promised more orgasms," he pointed out. "I'm thinking you can start keeping your promise in the shower."

Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him up, hugging him tightly before dragging him to the bathroom, laughing. Within minutes, the sound of the shower was mingling with occasional moans. The subsequent knocking on the door went unnoticed.

There was another knock, and then the door opened slightly and Ron poked his head through the gap. "Harry? Draco?" he called. Upon getting no response, he stepped into the room. He noticed the steam emerging from the bathroom. Before the next moan, though, his spotted the red hoodie on Draco's bed and rolled his eyes.

" _Already?"_ he muttered to himself. Then he laughed. "Just wait till I tell Hermione I was right!"

THE END


End file.
